


After School Special

by KT418, LB714



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Consensual Sex, Explicit Language, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Male Slash, Oral Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-20
Updated: 2013-07-20
Packaged: 2017-12-20 19:34:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/891035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KT418/pseuds/KT418, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LB714/pseuds/LB714
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Roman takes Peter for a drive after school, they both realize their friendship has taken a turn. This story takes place during the season 1 universe, before Peter and Letha became a couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After School Special

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction. We do not own these characters but have simply borrowed them. We will return them unharmed to their owners.

Roman strolls down the school stairs, his tall body elegant in spite of his perpetual slouch. He takes a leisurely glance around for Letha or Shelley and spots Letha's blond hair, glistening in the sunshine. Then he sees Peter next to her, and his mind growls, "Mine!" He doesn't analyze the thought—he almost isn't truly aware of it—and manages to drop down on top of the wall between them.

Peter's blue eyes widen at the sudden intrusion, and he moves his leg aside to make room for Roman's towering figure. For some reason he feels guilty for speaking with Letha, though he's not sure why. Roman has become such a presence in his life in such a short time, and whenever he's around, Peter gets that feeling in his balls. But it's not like the other feeling he sometimes gets—the sense of danger. This feeling is different; it confuses him and arouses him at the same time. "Godfrey," he states simply.

"Rumancek," Roman replies, holding Peter's gaze a little too long while dropping a proprietary arm around Letha's shoulders. "What are you two, er, chatting about."

"We were talking about you," Letha begins.

"Nothing," Peter says at the same time, glancing away, trying to act casual. He can feel Roman's steely gaze on him.

Roman rolls his eyes and stands, pulling Letha up with him. He starts to move toward his car, then glances back casually. "You coming?"

"Shit," Peter mutters, shifting uncomfortably, but rising nonetheless. That's the power Roman has. He can make you do things you don't even know you want to do. Peter keeps some space between him and Roman, falling a few steps behind, looking right to left, on guard as usual, aware of the stares and whispers of the other students as they make their way to Roman's sports car. Another thing Peter can't resist.

Roman notices Peter eyeing his vintage Jag and smiles to himself. Everyone is jealous of his car; that’s the way Roman likes it.

Peter hops over the passenger door and into the back. He knows that Roman will want Letha beside him. Again that feeling—this time jealousy. He stretches his arms over the back seat and waits for his friends to slide in the front so they can get going. The sooner he gets back to the trailer, the sooner he can get these thoughts out of his head.

Roman has other ideas in mind. He drives first to Letha's house to let her off. "Let's go for a ride," he says. Then, after a pause, he adds, "Get in the front; I'm not your damned chauffeur."

"I can dream, can't I?" jokes Peter. He pushes the seat forward and slips into the front, anxious to get going, to feel the wind on his face. It's with Roman that he feels free—free to be himself. To not have to hide. To lower his guard for just a little while.

This, this is what Roman lives for, driving fast, the wind in his hair, leaves flying out from under his wheels. He can almost forget things like Letha. And Peter. And Letha and Peter. Almost. Eventually he slows down, just enough so his voice can be heard. "So, what do you think you're doing with my cousin?"

"Helping her break out of her shell. You know, a popular guy like me can really improve her social status," quips Peter, flashing a sarcastic grin at Roman.

"You think a Godfrey needs help from Gypsy scu—. Um, sorry. Mother's influence. "

Peter looks away, frowning. He can take it from the other kids, from the people in this fucking town, but to hear it from Roman—is that what he really thinks of him? "Nothing happened, Roman. We were just talking."

"She's _my_ cousin." It sounds wrong even to his own ears. "She's my _cousin_."

Peter's head whips around. He hears the subtext and wants to call Roman out. But he doesn't. Not now. "You've made that perfectly clear." He directs his attention to the road. "Is that what you wanted to tell me? Because you could have just said it and left me at the trailer."

"Yes. No. I don't know."

"Nothing happened," Peter repeats. For some reason he can’t explain, even to himself, he feels the need to emphasize that with Roman. "You can ask her yourself if you don't believe me."

"Yeah, I don't even know why it bugs me. I'm fucked up." Roman rolls his eyes again and takes a curve way too fast.

"Shit, Roman, slow down." Peter jerks in his seat as they whip around the curve. "Slow down!"

"Aw, is widdle Petey scared?" Roman asks, but he smiles when he says it, and slows down. "Sorry, I just love flying in this thing, you know?"

"I'd rather not _die_ in this thing, you know?" snaps Peter. Roman is a loose cannon sometimes; you never knew when he would switch on, and right now, Peter is on edge enough, with the whole town thinking he's a killer, Letha giving him signals she probably shouldn't, and now Roman acting strangely. Well, more strangely than he usually acts. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Nowhere. Anywhere. Just driving. Don't your people like to roam? Roamin' with Roman?"

Peter can't help but smile. Roman is being glib, and when Roman is glib, it means the switch is off and Peter can relax. For now. "We don't usually roam in a sweet ride like this." He drapes his arm over the door and pats it for emphasis.

"Maybe someday I'll let you drive it."

"Today is a good day for someday." Peter turns his head and grins, flashing deep blue eyes full of hope at Roman.

Something deep in Roman's gut responds to that look, something he doesn't understand. "Um, can you even drive a stick?"

"Just pull the fuck over."

Roman looks at Peter speculatively. "Someone's getting pushy." But he starts looking for a good place to pull over.

As soon as Roman puts the car into park, Peter leaps from the vehicle, practically skipping to the driver's side door. He takes the pendant hanging from the chain around his neck, kisses it up to the sky, and says, "Wish you were here, Nicolae."

Roman unfolds his long frame out of the driver's seat. "If you hurt it, so much as a _scratch_ , you're dead. You know that."

"Don't worry, Godfrey," says Peter, snatching the keys from Roman's hand, "I'll treat her like she's my own." With a satisfied grin, Peter slides in behind the wheel and waits for Roman to get in. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine himself behind the wheel of a car as beautiful as this.

"Just don't start thinking that she _is_ your own," Roman says, thinking, That goes for Letha, too. He saunters around the car and gets in the passenger side, a very unusual feeling for him. He likes being in control.

Peter ignores the barb as he sticks the key in the ignition. "Hang on," he teases, looking at Roman as he revs the engine and releases the break. Then they're off, Peter taking the road as though it's a part of him.

When Peter was twelve, Nicolae put him in the front seat of his beater and taught him to drive. Though he'd never had a car of his own, for this short time that Roman has entrusted him with his prize possession, he can pretend. As the wind whips his hair around his face, Peter smiles and steals a glance at Roman, who seems deep in thought. Peter senses that it's not just the murdered girl; there's something else on his friend's mind. Finally, he pulls off the main road and stops at a secluded spot across the river from the old steel mill. The sun is low in the sky, and the late afternoon light dances in Roman's perfectly combed hair.

He'd been wrong to doubt Peter's ability, Roman realizes immediately. Peter drives like he was been born to drive a car like this. It's kind of, well, it's kind of sexy. He's pondering this when Peter stops the car. "You _are_ good with a stick," he says quietly. His words are teasing but his tone is not.

Peter sucks in the cool late-afternoon air and stares at Roman with half-lidded eyes. Casually, he throws an arm over the seat. "Don't act so surprised."

"It's a good surprise."

Peter pulls his arm back and stares ahead, through the windshield. "l'm full of them, Godfrey," he cracks.

"What other surprises do you have, Petey?"

Now unsure of where this is going, Peter grips the steering wheel and stretches his neck. He chuckles nervously. "Maybe we should go."

"You're not going to tell me not to call you Petey? You sick?" Roman reaches to lay a hand on his friend's forehead.

Peter's instincts tell him to pull away, but he doesn't. Roman's hand is cool on his skin, and it sends a current through his body. This is wrong, he tells himself. Very wrong. Roman is an upir, and upirs and Rumanceks don't mix. But he ignores the voice. "Don't," he says quietly.

"Don't what?" Roman shifts in his seat to face Peter more fully and pushes Peter's hair back from his face. "Don't this?"

Again, Peter doesn't move. He swears in Romanian. "You don't know what you're doing, Roman," he says. The current has traveled through his body and centered itself between his legs.

"I don't?"

"This is a dangerous road to go down." The hand is still in his hair, and Peter makes no attempt to push it away.

"You're a werewolf, and _this_ is dangerous?"

"I have no control over that. It's what I am."

"It's not all you are."

The sun is now low on the horizon. Soon it will be dark. It will be a half-moon tonight, and Peter is far enough away from the turn. But the wolf is inside him, always. He finally loosens his grip on the steering wheel and rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans. "What am I, Roman? You tell me."

"Hot," Roman blurts before he can stop himself.

"Shee-it," Peter exclaims. His resolve has crumbled; desire has taken control. In one sudden move, he turns toward Roman, grabs his face, and pulls him in for a kiss.

It's what Roman wanted, even before he knew he wanted it. He'd never really thought about guys this way, but with Peter, it just feels right.

Peter breaks the kiss almost as quickly as he began it. "Fuck," he mutters, pulling away and leaning against the door, as far away from Roman as he can get.

"Okay," Roman says slyly.

Peter's head snaps around and his eyes grow wide. "You're not making this any easier," he remarks.

"I'm trying to make it harder."

It's working, thinks Peter. He doesn't know how much longer he can resist. "We should go." But again, he makes no move to start the car.

"Do you really want to? Really?"

Peter's jaw tightens and he looks everywhere but at Roman. "Shit!" he yells, banging his palms on the steering wheel. "Shit! Shit Shit! Why are you doing this?"

Roman gives him a very direct look. Suddenly, he doesn't seem like a teenager any more. " _You_ kissed _me_ , Peter," he says, all the banter gone from his voice.

"It was a mistake," Peter says, but he knows that's not true. He doesn't regret kissing Roman. He regrets listening to the voices in his head telling him it’s wrong.

"Liar," Roman murmurs, then leans in for a kiss of his own.

Trapped against the car door, Peter can do nothing but give in. The truth is, he doesn't want to resist, and he's grateful that this time Roman made the move. No one can resist Roman—Peter knows now the reality of that. Soon, he relaxes, and within seconds, he's kissing Roman back, parting his lips to allow Roman entrance.

Already surprised that this is happening at all, Roman almost loses it when Peter open his lips to him. With girls, it was always Roman making the moves. Here it's all give and take. Maybe he's just picked the wrong girls. Peter, on the other hand, tastes of cigarettes and maleness. And Roman likes it.

Peter brings his hands to Roman's face, caressing the smooth, clean skin. He doesn't fully comprehend what is happening, because rationality has left his conscious mind and now he's acting on pure animal instinct. And his instinct is telling him that he wants Roman, badly. That scares him more than anything right now, because he's never been with a girl, let alone a boy. He's moved around too much to form any kind of a connection with anyone, but with Roman, the connection was almost immediate. Roman pulls back to catch his breath. He looks his friend in the eye, wondering how their friendship could have changed so instantly, so completely. "You know, I never . . ."

Wanted to do this, Peter finishes for him, in his mind. He knew this was a mistake from the beginning. He puts his hands on Roman's chest and pushes gently, turning away so he doesn't have to see his face. "You don't have to say it. We can forget this ever happened."

Roman grabs Peter's shoulder and turns him back. "That's not what I meant."

Peter shifts uncomfortably in his seat. What had started as a curious twitching has now become an insistent throbbing. "What the fuck did you mean, then?"

Surprised by Peter's defensiveness, Roman says, "Just that I've never done this with a guy before. I never even thought about it. Doesn't mean I don't like it."

"You think I have? You think because I'm a Gypsy that I fuck everything that moves?" He's being defensive, he knows it, but he's afraid of what the great Roman Godfrey will think when he finds out Peter is a virgin.

"That's not what I'm saying, either. Shit, Peter. This is weird for both of us." Before Peter can protest, Roman adds, "Good weird. Good weird."

"Everything about this fucking place is weird," Peter adds, rolling his eyes. He reaches a tentative hand up to Roman's face again and touches his cheek. He can't help himself. With Roman looking at him that way—it just makes him want him more.

Roman hadn't given much thought to what Peter's life must really have been like. Moving from place to place. Never having the same friends from year to year. Maybe never having many friends at all. This time, he recognizes the tenderness, the loneliness, in Peter's simple gesture.

With pleading eyes, Peter urges Roman to kiss him again. He yearns for his kiss, his touch, more than anything he's ever wanted before.

Roman draws the moment out knowing that Peter wants him, knowing that he wants Peter. When he can't stand it anymore, he leans in once again and kisses him, hard.

This time Peter's desperation seeps into the kiss, letting Roman know that he's no delicate flower, that he wants everything Roman is willing to give.

This kiss is the most passionate yet and Roman realizes that the difficult moment has passed. The insecurity, the hesitation. Gone.

Peter leans in, meeting Roman halfway, but his knee hits the stick between their seats, and, frustrated, he breaks the kiss and swears. This isn't the most conducive place for two full-size boys, he thinks. His face is hot when he motions with his eyes to the backseat.

"Not much room back there," Roman says ruefully. "But at least there isn't a gearshift."

"The trailer," Peter says simply, urgently, before he can change his mind.

"Go."

Peter has the car started and in gear before either of them can say more. He drives silently, stealing glances at Roman, waiting for him to change his mind and put a stop to this. But before long Peter pulls up by the mailbox. Lynda's car is gone, and he can sense that she won't be back for hours. When he cuts the engine, he looks at Roman and then gets out, not even bothering to wait but simply heads down the stairs. If Roman doesn't follow, Peter will forget this day ever happened. And if he does . . .

Roman can see in the set of Peter's shoulders that he's bracing himself for yet another disappointment in a life that's been filled with them. But not this time. Roman climbs out of the car and follows Peter into the trailer.

Peter flings the door open, and it bangs loudly against the frame, and Caspar, his cat, bounds quickly down the few steps, meowing loudly after being cooped up all day. Inside, the trailer is dark, so Peter flips the light switch, offering a dim view of a very bleak living room. Before either boy can say anything, Peter turns around and kisses Roman hungrily.

Roman spins Peter and backs him up to against the door, responding just as hungrily.

Trapped this way, Peter's body grows hot, and the throbbing between his legs now presses against his jeans. He begins tearing at Roman's perfectly tailored jacket, pushing it off his shoulders while never breaking the kiss.

Roman wriggles, trying to help Peter strip the jacket off, but mostly succeeds in causing a delicious friction between their bodies.

Peter is breathing hard now, trying to maintain control. He shoves Roman back so he can get the jacket off, and then begins working on his shirt. Too much fucking clothes, he thinks.

The push arouses Roman even more and he starts ripping at Peter's clothes as well. His vest falls to the floor; then Roman's hands are at the buttons on his shirt just as Peter gets Roman's shirt open.

Peter is panting as he gazes at Roman's pale, smooth chest. Desire takes over and he dips in to kiss Roman's collarbone, licking and breathing in his delicious, musky scent.

Roman has done lots of things with lots of people, but he's certain nothing has felt more arousing than that kiss.

Peter's lips move to Roman's neck as his hands travel down Roman's chest and work frantically at his belt.

Roman lets out a low moan and redoubles his efforts to get Peter's clothes off, trying at the same time not to interfere with Peter's hands, working so diligently on his belt.

Peter has the belt open and now works on the button of Roman's pants. The fact that Roman's belt probably cost more than Peter's entire wardrobe is not lost on him, and once again he is reminded of how different they are, yet the connection between them cannot be denied. Right now, Peter longs to be even more connected to Roman, so he locks eyes with the taller boy and slips a hand inside Roman's underwear.

At the touch of Peter's warm hand, Roman practically comes. He's usually so blasé about sex, and he doesn't remember the last time he was this aroused. He wonders if it's like this for Peter, too.

With a sharp intake of breath, Peter wraps his hand around Roman's thick cock, surprised by the heat it generates. Touching him this way sends the blood rushing to his own groin. "Baby, you're so hot," he breathes against Roman's lips.

"No, you're hot," Roman says with a grin that turns into a kiss.

Peter parts his lips and teases Roman's tongue with his own, while his hand begins to move up and down Roman's long shaft.

Roman finally manages to open the button on Peter's jeans. The zipper gives him less trouble and he can finally reach in and grab Peter's ass and pull him closer.

Now breathing heavily, Peter pauses long enough to take Roman's hand and lead him over to the couch. He quickly removes his shoes and slides his jeans down, never taking his eyes off Roman. Off his beautiful pale skin, the lean muscles of a boy who never had to work for anything, the eyes that possessed so much power Roman wasn't even aware of.

Roman watches the play of muscles as Peter strips off his jeans, then reaches up to pull Peter down beside him. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to," he says quietly, surprising himself. Usually it's all about his own pleasure, but this time, he really wants it to be good for Peter, too.

Sitting beside Roman, feeling the heat emanating from his body, Peter feels as though Roman can see into his soul. He knows, thinks Peter. He knows it's your first time. He leans his damp forehead against Roman's, places a hand on his cheek, and whispers, "I want to."

"Peter," Roman whispers. "I've never done this with a guy. I'm, like, um, not sure . . ." Before Peter can answer he rushes on, "I'm sure about you. Just not, like, logistics."

"You think too fucking much," Peter says, capturing Roman's luscious lips, after that if he doesn't act Roman will change his mind altogether and walk out.

Roman feels Peter's tension and pulls back slightly. "Don't you mean I think too much about fucking?"

Peter grins, keeping his hand on Roman’s face. “Why think about it when you can fucking do it?” Then he kisses Roman again, hard, leaning into him, letting him feel his desire.

It's hard for Roman to turn off his brain. He's always aware of the impression he's making, while making it look like he doesn't care. Peter is much less self-conscious, and he's making Roman want to be that way, too. To just let go and stop thinking and _do_. So when Peter leans into him, he goes with it, lets Peter lower him to the couch cushions.

While continuing to kiss Roman, Peter climbs on top of the taller boy, animal-like, his hands roaming back down to the heat between Roman's legs. Now his lips travel down Roman's chest, his tongue flicking out to trace a wet trail down to his navel. His hands work to free Roman from the confines of his pants; he's eager to see Roman, to taste him.

Roman groans in anticipation. He can't believe this is happening; he can't believe this is so hot.

Peter manages to get Roman's pants down enough for him to be face to face with Roman's engorged heat. He takes a moment to breathe in the delicious scent—his heighten sense of smell makes the sensation even more erotic than it would be for an ordinary human, and he almost growls before taking a swipe at the throbbing organ with his wet tongue.

Wet, hot, intoxicating. That single touch is all of those and it's all Roman can do to stop himself from taking over. He's determined to let Peter set the pace.

Gripping Roman's hips, Peter runs his tongue up Roman's long shaft, and when he reaches the tip, he licks his lips, turns his eyes up to Roman's face, and slowly takes Roman in.

It's the look on Peter's face as much as the action that makes Roman cry out. It doesn't matter that Peter's never done this before—the heat of his mouth is like nothing Roman has ever felt. Maybe it's a werewolf thing.

Encouraged by Roman's reaction, Peter slides his lips down the hot shaft and begins to move up and down, taking Roman in as far as he can.

Roman cradles Peter's head with one hand, while he strokes Peter's hair back from his face with the other.

The touch is so gentle, Peter can't believe it's coming from Roman Godfrey, who is so commanding in his everyday life. Soon, though, he releases Roman and raises his head. "Fuck me, Roman," he says, his voice raspy with desire.

Roman's eyes widen. "Really? You would let me . . ."

Peter sits back, panting. "I thought that's what you wanted."

"Fuck, yeah."

Peter crawls back up Roman's body so that he's face to face with him. "So what are you fucking waiting for?" he says, breathing heavily before grabbing Roman by the back of his neck and pulling him into a deep kiss.

This kiss is the most passionate yet and Roman is drawn into it completely. He gathers Peter even closer with one hand while with the other searches the floor for his pants. And the condoms in his wallet.

Peter’s eyes travel from Roman's pants to his face and back again. "You always carry that around with you?"

"You don't?"

Peter scratches the back of his head and looks down, half-smiling, and attempts a joke to deflect his embarrassment. "Um, no. Keep 'em in the bedroom."

"I have so much to teach you."

Laughing nervously, Peter turns his eyes to the ceiling. "I deserve that."

"Aw, I didn't mean it in a bad way."

"Shit, Godfrey, you're making me blush."

"I like it."

Now fidgeting, Peter says impatiently, "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Yeah, want to help me put it on?"

Peter swallows and takes the condom from Roman's outstretched hand. He sits up next to Roman and tears the wrapper with his teeth, spitting out the torn fragment. Then he eyes Roman's long, reclining body, his erection, dark and pink and thick, and at that moment Peter realizes that Roman will soon be inside him. His own heat twitches with anticipation. Licking his lips in concentration, Peter places the condom on the tip of Roman's cock and carefully rolls it down the shaft, his eyes flicking upward for approval.

Roman almost regrets asking Peter for his help, because it's so hard to stay still and let him roll the condom on. When Peter is finished, Roman draws him down for another kiss, and reaches out the caress Peter's neglected erection.

Moaning quietly into the kiss, Peter almost comes right then. He'd never been touched by another boy, but Roman's expert hand knows exactly what to do.

Thinking about what he likes himself, Roman strokes Peter a little roughly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to show he means business.

Peter is no delicate flower, and he makes that known by kissing Roman a little more intensely. Roman has the power, and Peter is eager to be the recipient.

Roman cups and fondles Peter's balls, then explores lower, teasing at his small, tight opening.

Peter pulls back, surprised, aroused, intrigued by this new sensation. He dips down and buries his face in Roman's neck, kissing, licking, nipping lightly with his teeth.

Encouraged, Roman pushes the tip of a finger deeper into Peter.

Peter muffles a groan against Roman's shoulders. Years of living in places with thin walls has taught him to be quiet. It's not easy, though, because Roman seems to know exactly how to please Peter, as though they've known each other much longer than a few months.

Roman tilts Peter's face upward so he can look into his eyes. "I'm going to, um, try now, okay?"

Nodding eagerly, Peter's whole body tingles with anticipation.

"Hang on," Roman says slyly as he pulls Peter close and smoothly rolls them over so he can grin down at Peter.

"Nice move, Godfrey," Peter purrs, tugging Roman's chin playfully.

"I have lots of moves."

"Show me." Peter is not smiling when he says this.

Roman hesitates for a second, then shifts so he can bend Peter's legs up. Then, scarcely breathing, he presses the tip of his cock into Peter.

Peter takes a deep breath and his eyes widen as Roman enters him. His heart quickens, not with fear, but with desire. This is what he wanted—this is what he's wanted since he met Roman, even if he wasn't aware of it at the time.

Encouraged, Roman pushes in more deeply, never taking his eyes from Peter's.

Now Peter gasps. He anticipated pain, but he was still surprised. He's experienced worse, though, so grabs Roman's shoulders and nods.

"You're so fucking hot," Roman growls, continuing to push until he's completely sheathed within Peter.

A small whimper escapes Peter as Roman fills him. "Don't fucking stop," he whispers. Wincing, he pulls Roman down for another kiss for encouragement.

As if I could, Roman thinks. He couldn't stop right now if someone held a gun to his head. Instead he starts moving, and what was already amazing becomes almost impossibly arousing.

The pain subsides, and now Peter feels only wave after wave of pleasure. He stares up into Roman's clear, green eyes and sees his desire reflected there. He runs his fingers over the boy's pink cheeks and traces Roman's full, pink lips with his thumb.

Playfully, Roman nibbles at Peter's thumb, and at the same time, reaches down between their bodies and encircles Peter's long, hard erection.

Panting, Peter looks down between their bodies at Roman's expert hand around his cock, and that almost makes him come right then. But he resists, instead taking a breath and turning his eyes back to Roman's face. "That feels fucking amazing."

"If you can still talk, I'm not doing it right," Roman says, intensifying his thrusting.

This causes Peter to grunt loudly, and his eyes dart wildly, until he realizes that no one can hear them. Then he giggles nervously. "Shit!" he yells with glee.

"Shit," Roman agrees, smiling, then immediately serious again as he tries even harder to please his friend.

Peter's back arches, and he moves his hands down Roman's back and gives his ass a squeeze.

Peter's simple squeeze arouses Roman even further and he thrusts hard and faster, stroking Peter's erection in the same rhythm.

Peter's body moves in time with Roman's rhythm, reinforcing their connection, bringing a physical aspect to it. Soon, Peter senses that he's on the brink, that Roman is bringing him to a place he's never been, and he grips the back of Roman's neck and grits his teeth and cries out.

"That's it, baby. That's right," Roman chants as he feels himself, too, going over that edge. Even as he comes he realizes, with a sense of surprise, that he'd felt no desire to cut himself.

Wave after wave consumes Peter as his seed fills Roman's hand. Soon, the tremors subside, and, still panting, he brings Roman's lips close and touches them with his own, conveying everything words could not say, things he would not allow himself to say.

The almost chaste kiss amid all this passion moves Roman in ways he'd never expected, and he brushes Peter's lips in return. Then he carefully pulls out and peels himself off Peter. He gently lowers Peter's legs, instinctively squeezing his thigh muscles in just the right spot to help him straighten them out painlessly.

As much as he would like to freeze time and remain like this until something or someone pulls them apart, Peter knows that's no possible. This can't ever happen again, he thinks, gazing sadly into Roman's eyes. There's too much at stake.

"You okay?" Roman asks, peeling off the condom and trying to figure out what to do with it so Peter's mom doesn't find it.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Peter replies, taking the condom from Roman's hand and rising from the couch to throw it out in the tiny bathroom down the hall. Inside the bathroom, he splashes cold water on his face. For a moment, he stares at his reflection. Everything's changed, he thinks, and he almost smiles, but then he remembers that Roman is still here. When he returns to the living room, again he almost stops himself from speaking. Roman is so fucking beautiful, he thinks, admiring his long, lean body, too tall for the sofa, too regal for this crappy trailer. "You should go," Peter says, regretting the words immediately.

"What, you've had your way with me and now you're throwing me out?" Roman says, trying to be flippant. But a little bit of hurt comes through in his voice.

The last thing Peter wants to do is hurt Roman, but he also knows that if anyone found out what they did, they'd go after Roman as well as Peter. "Don't you get it? They already think I killed those girls. What do you think they'll do if they find out about us?"

"Then we don't let them find out. They know we hang out. Unless we make out in public, who's gonna know?"

Now the tables are turned, Peter realizes. It's Roman who is the innocent. He's never been on the run before. He's never been hunted. Peter smiles and scratches his head. He takes a seat on the couch, facing Roman, reaches out a hand, and gently touches Roman's face. "It's only a matter of time."

"I don't care," Roman says, with the stubbornness of a kid who has never wanted anything he couldn't have. "I'll hide you; I'll take care of you."

This time, Peter turns his eyes to the ceiling. "What, you'll lock me up in the attic with your sister?"

"We don't lock Shelley up."

"You can't save everyone, Roman."

"I know that. And I know you don't need to be saved."

"This isn't going to end well, you know."

"Isn't it a little early to think about endings?"

"Shit, Godfrey, you're not gonna give up, are you?"

Roman smiles his most engaging smile. "Nope."

"Shee-it," Peter says again, rolling his eyes and moving a lock of hair away from his face. "Your mom'll fucking kill me if she finds out."

"Like I care."

"We won't be able to do this again if I'm dead." Peter rises and starts rummaging around for his jeans.

"Smart ass."

"You better get your smart ass dressed. Lynda will be home soon."

Roman reaches for his pants. "So, you're letting me stay?"

"No, I'm kicking you out. This time." He tosses Roman his shirt.

"But, you'll let me come back?"

"Fuck it, Roman, yes, you can come back." And before he can stop himself he grabs Roman and kisses him hard.

When they come up for air, Roman grins and says, "I knew you couldn't resist my charms."


End file.
